


Far From Any Road

by Sheselectric



Series: The Killing Moon [1]
Category: Mass Effect - All Media Types, Mass Effect Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Sexual Tension, Spectre Garrus
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-20
Updated: 2019-10-20
Packaged: 2020-12-24 11:30:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,804
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21098759
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sheselectric/pseuds/Sheselectric
Summary: Garrus is supposed to evaluate Shepard, but it's hard to work with someone who questions your every move.





	Far From Any Road

**Author's Note:**

> AU where Garrus inhabits the role of Nihlus, but there are no Reapers, or the Normandy... Or the team. It's basically the two of them trying to work together.

She's unlike any human he's ever met. 

Quiet most of the time, but with a strong presence that makes him doubt his methods. And he’s a Spectre. He shouldn’t feel intimidated by some Alliance soldier who hasn’t experienced half the things he has.

Maybe that’s why her presence irks him so much. “Not now, Shepard,” he says anytime she _does_ decide to speak to him.

But as he watches her go after being dismissed time and again, he can’t fight the feeling that there’s something else about this whole situation that makes him uncomfortable.

And then, they get sent on _that _mission. It’s hours of driving through a desolate landscape before they reach the base. 

Shepard distances herself in the small space and looks out the window. The longer they sit there without exchanging a word, the worse it gets. It’s a tension that’s almost suffocating, and his hands tighten on the steering wheel as he tries to focus.

At one point, he decides to speak. It’s better than running a million scenarios on _why_ he feels like that.

“Enjoying the view?” He asks in a disinterested tone and then curses internally because out of all the things, he had to say something so stupid.

To his surprise, a corner of her lips raises.

“There’s nothing here,” she says.

“At least the sky looks nice,” he says and looks out the window, his eyes focusing on the giant red star.

She’s quiet for a few seconds.

“So, what’s the plan of action?” She’s now looking at him and he stiffens in his seat.

It’s an innocent question, but he knows it’ll end up in a bitter disagreement.

“We go in, clean out the mercs, and extract the survivors,” he focuses on his hands, “and if he’s there, we _deal_ with him too”.

There it is, a slight shake of her head as she wages his words.

“_Deal_ with him?”

Now he’s irritated, mandibles pressing tight into his face. 

“I don’t need you to agree with me, Shepard,” he snaps, “I just need you to do your job." 

She watches him for a few seconds as if she has something else to say, but the words never come. She looks out the window again.

Garrus focuses on the road, shaking his head as he realizes that he’ll have to go through this again after they’re finished.

~

There might be some bad blood between them – distrust, coldness, suspicion – but it all evaporates anytime they fight. He watches her from the corner of his eye as she moves from cover to cover, and the sight is something else.

She’s not a biotic or a tech specialist. There’s nothing special about her set of skills at all, yet she’s captivating as she runs and guns with deadly precision.

A bullet misses his mandible by millimeters and that’s when he realizes she makes him lose focus. He jolts behind the cover and exhales, and then he’s back at it again. Shepard doesn’t affect his precision at least, he thinks as he delivers a perfect headshot.

When the last mercenary falls to the ground, he looks at her again. Shepard’s staring at him with a proud smile, her skin red and sweaty. Garrus swallows hard before speaking.

“Let’s move."

They get into the elevator and he closes his eyes as her scent hits him. Normally, he doesn’t mind. She doesn’t smell bad, especially for a human. _Of course_, he’d never admit that to anyone; Turian – human animosity runs deep. But as they stand arm to arm, spent after the fight, it’s more than the matter of not smelling bad.

She smells intoxicating, earthy and raw, and he has to remind himself of all those times she annoyed him to stop himself from grunting. It works. He clears his throat as the elevator stops to the halt and they exit.

“According to our intel, the lab should be down there,” he points down the corridor and she follows him without a word. There’s that tension in the air again and he prays that they will find survivors, because if they don’t...

The doors open with a loud hiss and the foul smell hits his nostrils before he can even take a good look around. _Bodies_, he asserts as they step in. 

A certain kind of sadness washes over him. All of those missing people –- they’re nothing now, but a pile of nameless corpses.

But as he examines them with his omni-tool, the stiffness in his body turns into a spike of heat that runs down his spine. The extent of the experiments is worse than he thought. Unthinkable. Inhumane.

“Barbaric,” Shepard says as she crouches to examine one of the bodies. “Why would anyone do this?” 

His mandibles tighten. He tries to appear calm as he starts to speak, but there’s an edge to his voice.

“I told you. Dr. Saleon is one cruel bastard."

“The only thing we can do now is to bring justice to his victims,” she stands up, “we should turn him over to the authorities."

Shepard’s observing his face and he has to fight with himself to not lash out. She sees what he’s done, and she still believes he deserves to live? That he deserves this kind of compassion? No. Not if Garrus has any say in the matter.

He passes her by without a word.

“Wait,” she says as he marches down the closed door on the other side of the lab. “Garrus,” she jogs after him.

“Saleon,” he shouts and pounds on the door, “I know you’re in there”.

“Garrus,” she repeats as she stands by his side, “calm down. We _don’t_ need to escalate this."

He looks at her as if she was crazy.

“What do you want us to do? Leave him alone?”

His tone is raised and she shakes her head as he stares her down.

“No, but…”

“I’ve had enough of this." He pulls his omni-tool without a glance in her direction. It pings for a few painful seconds and he _knows _he should calm down, but he’s too far in now. When the door opens, he walks in with his gun cocked.

“Saleon,” he says as they're finally face to face. “I’ve been chasing you all over the galaxy.” He aims his gun. "And now you have nowhere to hide”.

And then he fires, without a warning or a second thought. The bullet flies straight through the Doctor’s head, bits of his brain splashing on the wall. Garrus watches it as if from the outside -- as if he wasn't the one who pulled the trigger -- and then he closes his eyes.

He did the right thing_. He did the right thing._ That’s why he became a Spectre -- to _right _the wrongs.

He opens his eyes and exhales, and as he turns towards Shepard, he realizes that she’s not there. He looks around, muttering under his breath about how she doesn't follow the protocol when he spots her crossing the lab quickly.

“Shepard,” he calls after her but she doesn’t as much as a glance in his direction.

He puts the gun on his back and follows her, becoming more irritated with every step.

He catches up with her right outside the door. “What are you doing?” He spats and she answers without looking back.

“Seems that we’re done here. I’m getting back to the car."

Maybe it’s the Turian in him, but the answer makes his mandibles tingle in anger. Shepard doesn’t have to agree with him, but she damn better obey the rules he’s laid out. 

“I’m sorry, did I miss the part where _you_ became the head of this operation?” She doesn’t grace him with an answer and he does something he’s never done before. He catches her arm and turns her around to face him. “What’s your problem, Shepard?” He asks as his grip tightens and he can see her face getting red.

“You want to know what’s my problem?” She almost hisses and it does weird things to him. “My problem is that you execute people instead of bringing them to justice."

For a second, he’s offended. But as he watches her face -- the reddened skin that’s almost pulsing with blood flowing underneath and an icy gaze that follows his every move -- he decides to push her. He knows it’s a dangerous game to play, but he’s not in the mood to explain himself.

“_I _am the justice,” he says.

Shepard isn’t the type to get mad easily, but he knows she’s getting there as she scoffs and takes a step closer.

“You know what you are?” She asks but doesn’t wait for an answer. “A misguided ex-cop who can’t solve things without resorting to violence."

With those words, the tension that’s been building in his stomach erupts, and there’s a deep rumble coming from his mouth as he leans in to be on her level.

“And you’re just a human who thinks she does galaxy a favor by sparing criminals.” He looks into her eyes. “I’ve been here longer than you, Shepard. It doesn’t work."

For a moment, there’s a silence between them, marked only by the sound of her beating heart.

“Are you done?” She asks quietly but firmly, and her hot breath on his face makes his plates shift.

“Not yet,” he says as he suddenly reaches behind her neck to pull her closer.

His forehead presses into hers and he can hear breath catching in her throat.

“What are you doing?” She asks as if she was offended but doesn’t try to put distance between them.

He can’t answer her question, because he _doesn’t_ know what he’s doing. It’s instinct; something that he’s been fighting with for weeks now.

And instead of trying to collect himself, he gives in, riled up from their argument.

“This,” he says and moves his face to the crook of her neck, nudging her with his nose.

Her heart stops beating, forcing Garrus to reevaluate his whole life as he pulls away. This is the exact reason why you _don’t_ fraternize.

But as he collects himself to apologize, Shepard puts hands on both sides of his face. And then she looks at him. He’s not sure what he sees in her eyes, and he doesn’t have time to figure it out, because she’s pressing her lips into his mouth plates.

Garrus doesn’t understand why humans do that, but he _does_ understand the intention, and it makes the heat spread down his body. Then the instincts kick in again, primal and powerful, as he wraps his arms around her and pulls her up.

They don’t kiss, not really -- it’s her lips moving up and down, breathing hot air into his mouth. But it’s enough to make him want more.

Garrus presses her body into the steel wall, armors clinking as they try to touch each other. It’s beyond any reason to do that – here, now, with a human. With _Shepard_. They shouldn’t even fit together, but they do, he realizes as his hands move down her body.

It’s at that moment when she licks his face, or that’s what he thinks she does at first. It’s ridiculous really, but he allows her to continue until she pushes her tongue into his mouth. That’s when he gets it.

Shepard wraps her arms around his neck, guiding him until he’s got wind of it, and then she moans. It’s quiet, subdued by his mouth, but it sends a powerful jolt down his spine. This woman who barely speaks to him unless she wants to show her disapproval is moaning for him.

And just like that, he’s lost reason. He slides his mouth plates down to her neck -– a long, fragile neck with veins that pump an outrageous amount of blood, which he can see and he’s almost sure he can smell. When he starts to lick her, her hips buckle into his. It’s a cue if he’s ever seen one.

Garrus takes a slow step back. Maybe it’s completely crazy to do this right here and now, but it’s not something that eats at him as he starts to remove his armor. He’s lost his mind a few minutes back anyway.

Shepard follows his lead, dropping her guns and removing the pieces. They’re both quick and methodical; it’d be no different to what they do in the armory almost every day, if not for the fact that their eyes are locked.

And anytime a piece drops to the ground, it’s as if more air has been sucked out of the room. Maybe that heavy tension is the reason why he doesn’t catch _that_ scent until she’s almost done with undressing. When he does, he’s on her in a matter of seconds.

Her arousal is intoxicating. It smells familiar and foreign at once; like something that you feel safe tasting, but know it will be different from everything you’ve ever tried.

Shepard pulls him in for another hungry kiss, but he can’t focus on what his tongue is supposed to do, as the only thing on his mind is that he _has_ to take her. He knows he should be gentler about it, but he can't stop himself from grabbing her hips and turning her around.

She gasps in surprise. It’s a yet another sound that shouldn’t be making him as hard as it does. He slides his hands down her thighs, pulling her closer.

There might be obvious anatomical differences between them, but he figures sex works about the same for humans. As he attempts to enter her, he realizes it’s nothing like what he expected. She’s even softer there; hot and tight, with her body seemingly closing around him. 

Even though he has to press to slide inside her, she moans. His brain is telling him this isn’t normal, because that’s not how Turian women work, but his body is pulsing with desire. He gives in to the feeling, pushing until there’s resistance and then he stops. And it feels good. And he wonders how he’ll ever be able to sleep with another woman again.

A slight twitch of her body is pulling him back, forcing him to move. He’s slow at first, telling himself that he needs to _learn _how to do it with her. But as Shepard starts meeting his thrusts, he knows that they fit just right.

He lets himself go, wrapping his arm around her waist as he slams into her. Every thrust is marked by a moan or a gasp; a perfect mix that’s making his body tremble. He closes his eyes, losing himself in the heat.

“Garrus,” she whispers mid-thrust, “stop."

It’s like a bucket of cold water. He opens his eyes, coming to a halt almost instantly. As he retracts, a million thoughts are racing in his head. None of them good.

But when Shepard turns around, she’s everything but upset. “Let’s do it like this,” she says and he has _no_ idea what she means.

“Like what?” He dead-pans.

She takes his hands and puts them on her waist.

“Lift me up."

It clicks into place right then. He lifts her with ease, her muscly legs wrapping around his waist. And then she guides him in.

It’s strangely intimate and he tries to look away. Not because he doesn’t want to see her, but because that’s not what Turians do. She doesn’t give him that comfort, putting her hands on both sides of his face and pulling him in her direction.

So, he looks. With caution at first, closing his eyes anytime he thrusts in. But the more measured his movements become, and the louder she gets, the more he wants to _see_. Their eyes lock and a shiver runs down his spine.

He’s not ashamed anymore. He wants it, and he knows _she_ wants it.

Every time her sweaty body slides up and down the wall; every time she wets her lips with her tongue; and every time her nails dig into his arms –- he thinks that he’s about to come undone.

But he stops himself, thrusting into her only to stay as she moans and tries to hold her balance. It takes only a few more of those for her body to tremble and her eyes to finally close. He follows her lead, finishing with a grunt that drowns out her gasps. And then, it’s over.

Once again, he’s nothing more to her than a Council Spectre, and she’s nothing more to him than a marine that he’s supposed to evaluate. There’s nothing between them.

But as he reaches for the pieces of his armor, watching her from the corner of his eye, he can’t fight the feeling that the people who entered this place hours ago are not the same ones that are leaving it now.

**Author's Note:**

> I kinda dig this AU set-up, but I'm not sure if there's more to be told here. 
> 
> Thoughts? Opinions?


End file.
